Valley of Ashes

by Cornelia Read

  I took the chair farthest away from him. Put my feet up on the coffee table.

  The beer was good. Cold and bitter.

  “Ask me how my day was, Dean,” I said. “You haven’t remembered to do that in a while.”

  His lips got all tight. Pissy looking.

  I actually laughed at that, surprising myself. It made my throat hurt.

  “Jesus Christ,” I said. “You worthless sack of shit.”

  He crossed his arms across his splayed knees, brought his forehead down to rest on them.

  “She killed Cary. She tried to kill me.”

  Our daughter has autism.

  “I know,” he said, voice muffled by his sleeve.

  “You know nothing, Dean.”

  Then something else occurred to me.

  “So who told you?” I asked.

  “Who told me what?”

  “Who told you she was dead. You obviously didn’t know when I left this afternoon or you would’ve started sniveling then. So someone called you here, at our house, while you were taking care of India.”

  He closed his eyes.

  They snapped open again when I grabbed him by the chin and yanked his head around so he was facing me. “Answer me, you asshole. Who called to tell you?”

  “Her father.”

  “That bitch’s father had our home number?”

  He couldn’t look at me.

  “Did she?”

  No answer.

  “Had you been talking to her, too? Taking collect calls from jail?”

  “Bunny, it was my fault. All of it. Everything that happened. Because I was selfish, because I didn’t allow myself to think it could hurt anyone. All the damage. To you. To Cary…” His voice broke.

  “You’re damn right it was your fault,” I said.

  And then I hawked up everything I had and spat it into his face.

  “She tried to fucking kill me. Dean. She tried to fucking hack me to death with a fucking knife so she could steal my children. She told me she’d be a better mother than me, and that they’d love her more, and that they wouldn’t remember me because they would be too young when she killed me.”

  He wept. I’ll give him that.

  “And you know what else she told me?” I asked.

  No answer, of course.

  “She told me she’d be a better wife. That you loved her more than you loved me.”

  I hadn’t told him any of that, back in Boulder. I’d been too afraid to discover he believed it, too.

  “That’s not true,” he said. “For God’s sake—”

  “Fuck you, Dean Bauer. I’m a better wife, but Setsuko was exactly the wife you deserve.”

  “Bunny—”

  “Because you’re still in love with her. Even though she tried to kill the mother of your children, and even though she’s fucking dead.”

  I stood up.

  “Let me tell you how my day was, Dean. Not that you care.”

  His head dropped again.

  “Our daughter Parrish was diagnosed with autism this afternoon,” I said. “That’s how my fucking day was. And I hope you rot in hell.”

  Dean fell to his knees, bellowing like he’d been gored through the heart.

  As well he should.

  He wrapped his long arms tight around my thighs, pulling me close so he could bury his face in my belly.

  I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head back.

  “Get off me,” I said.

  “Bunny. Please.”

  I let go of his hair, but only after he’d dropped his arms.

  “Do not touch me,” I said. “Do not say another fucking word to me, you worthless, revolting sack of shit.”

  I walked away, squatting down with the girls.

  They were unfazed. Happy.

  India said, “Love, Mummie.”

  Parrish added, “Happy birthday.”

  I was back again, fully in the right-there, the right-then.

  Alive. Brimming. Grateful—to my beloved dead—to all those I’d lost, whom I could feel around me, right then.

  Thank you for this.

  For my daughters.

  For what I have left: sweetness and light.

  It’s enough. More than enough.

  More than I deserve.

  Let me be brave enough to merit it.

  Thank you.

  Sweetness and light: what my father used to call me.

  Words I had wanted to redeem, ever after.

  I rose to my feet.

  “Make our children something to eat,” I said, not looking back at Dean. “Give them a bath. You love them so much more than you’ve ever loved me, and they both need you right now.”

  Two hours later India was sleeping, tucked into her crib.

  I sat on the girls’ bedroom floor in the dark, cross-legged, stroking Parrish’s fair hair as she dozed in my lap.

  The exquisite oval of her face was silver-gilt in the moonlight, touched with the palest blue. Mouth parted slightly, long lashes curving dark against her cheeks.

  Even in her beautiful sleep, a tide I could not stem was bearing my daughter ceaselessly away: out of my arms, out of herself, out of the world.

  She looked like her father, she looked like me.

  She looked like everything I’d ever wanted. Everything I’d ever had to lose.

  Hostage to fortune.

  I didn’t know it yet, not that night: how much I still had to lose, and that I would never, ever again have a moment of unadulterated joy.

  I could have survived Setsuko. I could have learned to be happy again, even with Dean. We might even have come out of it stronger, he and I. Learned to care about each other more tenderly, around the broken places.

  But the woman I had been did not survive losing my second-born daughter, although she is still very much alive as I write this, these many years later.

  Long before the diagnosis, she was being spirited away. I hadn’t known it.

  I will always always despise myself for that. For every moment of her that I squandered.

  Everything since has been underscored by that heartbreak. All gains tempered by the dull impasto of that loss, and all light dimmed.

  I would learn, quickly, that Setsuko meant nothing by comparison. Dean’s faithlessness even less.

  I’m so glad I didn’t have to know all of it, that night: how very much sorrow I had yet to wade through. How much deeper into that ugly water I’d be forced to walk.

  Until it was over my head, by fathoms and fathoms.

  As it remains, and always will.

  You do become accustomed to that, though not easily. Mimi was right.

  But I couldn’t have borne having to comprehend any of what was yet to come, that night. Let alone all of it.

  She was right about that, too.

  Everyone’s past is filled with pain enough. We don’t need to see what’s yet to be endured.

  I leaned down in the darkness, brushing my lips across Parrish’s, basking in the soft, sweet exhalation of her breath.

  Like clover, like honey, like summer.

  Fireflies. Innocence. Racing and tumbling barefoot across wide green lawns while the grown-ups watch over us, luminous in the porch light; shimmering and elegant, behind the screens.

  Of course they’re there. We don’t have to look, sure they’ll keep us safe forever.

  A blessing, not knowing all that we must lose. All that will be sacrificed.

  I gave Parrish another kiss.

  My darling girl.

  My changeling.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This novel took far longer to write than I intended. Some excruciating stuff happened during the years it took me to finish it: my father committed suicide, I got divorced, and I moved from one coast of the country to another.

  I am tremendously grateful for the grace, patience, and wisdom of my stellar agent Amy Rennert and my two magnificent editors at Grand Central Publishing, Celia Johnson and Emily Griffin. (Les
Pockell, you too. We all miss you.)

  My daughter Grace is just an entirely amazing person and friend. Also, she is really funny.

  Without the heroic members of my writing group—Madeleine Butler, Karen Catalona, Daisy James, Sharon Johnson, Kirsten Saxton, and emeriti Charles King and Karen Murphy—this book would not exist, and neither would any claim to sanity I might have left.

  Kelly Davidian very kindly vetted the fire stuff for me. She is awesome. I’m sure I’ve still made mistakes, but she did the very best she could to keep me from looking like a total idiot.

  Candace Andrews and Rae Helmsworth and Andi Shechter and Ariel Zeitlin (alphabetically) were kind, thoughtful, and encouraging about this work. As they are about everything. I am damn lucky to have them as my pals.

  I am also deeply thankful to my fellow bloggers and backbloggers at Murderati and The Lipstick Chronicles, because you all made me feel like I had “home” with me no matter where I was actually living.

  There are many, many people who did yeoman work helping to maintain my mental equilibrium over the past three years. If you made me laugh or listened to me weep (on the phone or in person or by email) when the shit was hitting the fan and throughout the aftermath, you know who you are and I hope you know I seriously love you for it. That goes triple for you, Mom.

  Riegert… dude, you rock.

  And lastly, as promised, I’d very much like to thank Evyn Goldstein, the really cool kid I sat next to on the plane to Vancouver last summer, for making me laugh even though I didn’t get any sleep the night before. I hope you and your family had a really, really great time in China.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CORNELIA READ grew up in New York, California, and Hawaii. A reformed debutante who currently lives in New York City, she is the author of three previous books: A Field of Darkness, The Crazy School, and Invisible Boy. To learn more about the author, you can visit her website at CorneliaRead.com.

  QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION

  1. The title of the novel comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby; Fitzgerald’s “valley of ashes” is a bleak stretch of land between New York City and the fictional West Egg. In what ways is Boulder also a “valley of ashes” in this novel, despite its altitude?

  2. Almost from the outset of Valley of Ashes, we know that Madeline feels ill suited to her role as full-time mother and homemaker. Have you ever felt out-of-sorts in a life situation you had little ability to change?

  3. Though Madeline is depressed, she is also extremely funny about her domestic frustrations. Is humor a defense mechanism for her? Or one of survival?

  4. Have you ever worked for someone like Bittler? How did you handle a boss with that kind of personality?

  5. What does the dinner scene with Dean and Cary’s Japanese colleagues tell you about the compromises that people make for the sake of business relationships? What would cross the line for you?

  6. One of the book’s themes is the ongoing oppression of women, though the story takes place decades after the women’s movement was launched. Which female characters serve as inspirations? Are there any cautionary examples?

  7. Did the identity of Cary’s killer surprise you? In what ways does the murderer go against type?

  8. By the end of the novel, a discovery has overshadowed Madeline’s grief over the loss of a friend and the slow dissolution of her marriage. Have you ever experienced a tragedy that has thrown other losses into relief?

  9. Have you read other of the author’s Madeline Dare novels? How has Madeline changed over the course of four books? What about Dean?

  Also by Cornelia Read

  A Field of Darkness

  The Crazy School

  Invisible Boy

  ACCLAIM FOR THE NOVELS OF CORNELIA READ

  VALLEY OF ASHES

  “Funny and sad… a fast-paced, well-written book.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Wrenching… There’s an inevitable sense of doom throughout, which Read doles out in perfectly proportioned doses.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “I have been on the Cornelia Read bandwagon since her remarkable debut, but even my already ardent admiration didn’t prepare me for the heights she could achieve as a writer. VALLEY OF ASHES, like all the Madeline Dare books, is smart and surprising, acknowledging the cumulative power of Madeline’s troubled past while daring to suggest an even more challenging future. Riveting and devastating.”

  —Laura Lippman

  “A book you’ll love (if you like off-beat quirky characters). There is much about these books and characters that any family member will recognize. If you are not Madeline Dare, someone close to you is.”

  —KillerNashville.com

  “[T]he main character, Madeline Dare, is so fantastic it made the novel great… Madeline is one tough chick. Her attitude and demeanor… pulled me in and kept me turning the pages… anyone who appreciates a strong female lead should find this a satisfying read and be hunting your shelves for the previous novels.”

  —BrodartVibe blog

  INVISIBLE BOY

  “A great New York story.”

  —Lee Child, New York Post

  “A superb novel… Read expertly evokes the New York City of the period… Equal parts toughness and vulnerability, Madeline is always a bracing heroine.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Powerful… minces no words… a well-written, thought-provoking novel that will leave the reader pondering fate.”

  —Roanoke Times

  “Read’s darkest, most passionate, and most poignant book yet… Madeline Dare is as razor-sharp, as feisty, and as dry-witted, as ever, but the stakes have gotten higher: This time the victim isn’t just one person, it’s all the world’s broken and betrayed children, and the danger can never be safely locked away.”

  —Tana French, New York Times bestselling author

  “[This book] does more than touch on the eternal themes of memory, regret, loss, and death—it incorporates them, making them live on the page.”

  —BookReporter.com

  “Read writes with infinite imagination. Her descriptive passages are striking, her dialogue spot on, her characters vivid, her storytelling superb… With remarkable originality, she scores again in a novel that transcends genre and leaves the reader spellbound by Maddie’s coarseness—and her compassion.”

  —Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “Read has created some of the most vibrantly layered and complex characters I’ve seen in a long time… You won’t be able to put it down until you finish the last page!”

  —San Francisco Book Review

  THE CRAZY SCHOOL

  “How nice it is to hear that rebel voice [of Madeline Dare] again… The whodunit plot is funny and twisted.”

  —New York Times Book Review

  “Read’s considerable wit and élan with first-person narration made A Field of Darkness an undeniable page-turner. Read repeats the recipe in The Crazy School… Read is developing into one of those original and confident voices worth reading wherever the plot may go… Just keep talking/writing, Ms. Dare/Read, and we’ll all keep listening/reading.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “A totally fun novel of gentle suspense… The Crazy School distinguishes itself not so much as a mystery story, but as a hip excursion into the claustrophobic world of a pricey private school… Madeline’s edgy narrative voice lingers long after the last scream has been scrum.”

  —Washington Post

  “Read’s smart second offering starring witheringly witty debutante Madeline Dare… another swiftly plotted mystery peppered with wonderful one-liners… a must-read.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “Like its predecessor, The Crazy School is a classic whodunit with an enormously appealing heroine… hilarious, but the appeal here is the mystery… and Read’s continuing development of damaged, lovable Maddie. You’d be nuts to miss it.”

  —
Richmond Times-Dispatch

  “Caustic, gripping, and distinctive… another bitterly amusing mystery… Read borrows elements from different genres to craft a strange, compelling narrative… Madeline’s a great character, and her creator is a great storyteller… intelligent entertainment.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Gutsy… Read graphically depicts the depressing underside of a supposedly elite private school.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Read succinctly mixes wit and sarcasm with social commentary… character-rich plot… humor that is well-placed, but never glib… Madeline makes for an unusual, yet very real, character… Readers will learn what a talent Read is with her clever The Crazy School.”

  —South Florida Sun-Sentinel

  “An equally compelling new offering… Read’s novel is fast-paced; once the action starts, don’t even think about putting it down. The motives behind the murders are complex, and the ultimate heroes and bad guys are a total surprise. Strongly recommended.”

  —Library Journal (starred review)

  A FIELD OF DARKNESS

  “Spellbinding.”

  —New York Times Book Review

  “Sparks seem to fly off the pages… powered by a sensational narrator’s voice… Read is a big talent.”

  —Boston Globe

  “A remarkable debut [that] will please both mystery and literary fiction readers.”

  —Cleveland Plain Dealer

  “A pleasure… venomously witty… Read’s plot crackles and pops, but her characters steal the show.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “Don’t miss this one… a rare gem.”

  —Denver Rocky Mountain News

  “Fascinating… a sensational debut.”

  —Kirkus Review (starred review)

  “Read’s novel brims with verve and vitality.”

  —Pittsburgh Tribune-Review

  “[Read] writes in an original voice, as convincingly about working stiffs as society types, and Madeline is so full-bodied that she makes most of the current chick-lit heroines seem ghostly by comparison.”